A Servant's Job

I am my mistress' servant, I take care of her house and garden. The sprinklers work well, just like those of the surrounding houses. It's dry season, fires are well common and we need to keep an eye out.  

A stranger that was walking by with his friend looks at me with contempt and takes a step in my mistress' garden.  

He is smoking a cigarette at the end of it's life and starts to ask me: "tell me, what's gonna happen if I throw this bud here?", he points toward a spot the sprinkler doesn't reach. The driest spot. I tell him to not do it, that while I was there and could make sure a fire doesn't occur, it is simply uncivil. He looks down on me again and says: "then do your job", he throws the bud on the dry spot and leaves content. I pick it up and water the area.  

That is how I would usually handle such uncouth manners. But strangely enough, today was different...  

He is smoking a cigarette at the end of it's life and starts to ask me: "tell me, what's gonna happen if I throw this bud here?", he points toward a spot the sprinkler doesn't reach. The driest spot. I tell him that if he does then I will kill him, that he was being a vandal, putting others life at risk. He looks down on me with a smile and he throws the bud on the dry spot. I go to him and punch him, then again, then again, he is now on the ground so I kick him, then again, then again! I stop, I decide not to kill him, that he might have learned his lesson, so I will take care of the cigarette's butt.  

A small fire already started, I try to gather water from the sprinkler beside me with my hands and arms. I quickly bring it back to the now a little bigger fire, but it's not enough. I am looking for the watering hose, but can't remember where it is. It's coming back to me and, with unease, unroll it to the fire. I extinguish it.  

I realize my reaction towards the stranger was unlike me and decide to go back to him. He isn't where I left him, but is standing with his friend, looking barely injured, ringing on the doorbell in front of the mistress' door. I go up to them, maybe trying to make amends. This side of the wall has so many doors leading to different homes I am suddenly unsure which belongs to my mistress, I share to them my uncertainty, trying to help them toward the process of filing a complaint towards me. It was the right door and my mistress answers from the door-speaker. Still while looking so smug and above-everyone-else, the second passerby recounts I had, for no apparent reason, assaulted his friend and was expecting compensations, and for her to look at the cameras. The mistress swore she would get to the bottom of the issue as she jotted down their contact information. They leave, both still looking as malicious as ever.  

The mistress comes down and asks me what happened. I tell her everything, that I overreacted, but they were an evil bunch that deserved every beating, that people like them, purposefully hurting others simply enraged me. She understands, but we still need to go through the process of proving everyone's wrongs, so she will gather video footage after taking my blood sample for some test proving I am the one on the footage.  

I have an inexplicable fear in me as she gets closer to take my blood sample, but she is the mistress, she has taken great care of me over the years and I know she has my best interest at heart. She takes my blood sample, then presses her clean finger on my "wound" for a couple of seconds. The place she is pressing is starting to hurt, so I remove my arm politely, but don't see anything.  

She asks: "What is wrong?"

"I felt pain, but I don't see anything"

"when did you hurt yourself?"

"I don't remember"  

As we are walking towards the security room in the garden, where we can gather the video footage of the whole estate, a flash occurs to me that our house may be engulfed in flames, but I am looking straight at it, completely fine. She asks me what's wrong again:  

"What is it?"

"I got the feeling the house was engulfed in flames"

"That's not possible, the house is fine, you are saying crazy talk",  

My arm feels pain again, but now, where mistress had placed her thumb, is a burn mark, my skin taking a rosy tint. As I see this, I look at my mistress, her face doesn't look the same, like she is suppressing a craziness inside.  

It's coming back to me! Now with the strong certitude that the house is indeed burning, I look at the mistress:  

"Mistress, the house is really burning!"

"That's right" she puts her hands on my face. Its super hot! my face is being burned! I can now see our house inside a raging inferno, and in the foreground, my mistress, burning, her hands on my face... She is melting under my eyes! Her eyes, a mix of care and suppressed craziness from the burning pain are dwelling inside. She is telling me to wake up.